


guilt

by justsleepwalkin



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, Episode: s01e09 Left Behind, Episode: s01e10 Progeny, Episode: s01e13 Leviathan, Gen or Pre-Slash, Introspection, M/M, Minor Violence, Sara's a Good Bro, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsleepwalkin/pseuds/justsleepwalkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post LoT 1x09 and onward.</p><p>The thing about guilt is that it's a beast of its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. regret

**Author's Note:**

> Writing fic is how I cope with emotions. Despite being compromised I'm actually very happy about things right now, I just make the mistake about rewatching scenes and staring at Len's guilt-stricken face.

The thing about guilt is that it's a beast of its own. It follows in your shadow, claws in, never letting go. It's that whisper in your ear, that spat cackle on the wind when you turn around. Always there, watching you, never letting you forget that you've _done something_ , something you regret. Something you can't let go.

This is as close as Len can allow himself to get to Mick by himself. Not even in the cell they have for him. Not even in the same room. No, he's in the hallway beyond that room, sitting on the floor, his back pressed up against the door and his legs sprawled out in front of him. The crew knows he's there. They haven't said anything about it, though Sara's come to play cards with him sometimes and Jax has brought food. They'll sit and not talk and just let Len bask in the silence and Len can act like his guilt is on the other side of the door, watching Mick instead of watching him. 

2147 is outside of the ship but they haven't departed. Rip's given them a few days to familiarize themselves with the year so that they can blend in. Len's done a shit job at that homework assignment, but Rip hasn't called him out on it. 

He spins his cold gun, its barrel on the floor of the ship, his remade hand smoothing over the grip. Staring at himself. Losing himself. 

A part of him thinks Mick knows he's here. That the intense feeling at his spine isn't his guilt smothering him, but it's Mick's dead gaze locked on the door. 

Len's supposed to be the _cold_ one. 

_“I always,_ always _was coming back for you!”_

_“Seems like one of us lost track of time.”_

_“Well, how long did you—”_

Len leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. 

Lifetimes. 

Restored.

Reborn. 

Vengeance. 

Len's eyes drift down to his remade hand, free of scars, free of damages, calluses. He wonders, did the Time Masters take away Mick's burns? That alarms Len more than it should. He's always hated those scars because of what they represent, but they're _history_ , a part of _their_ history and that's erased now, gone, and Len did that. How much of his Mick is even still in there? He wants to believe, but he's not the crew's optimist. This is his fault. He _knew_ it would be but he'd never thought—it wasn't supposed to be this—

“I'm sorry,” his voice cracks and his cold gun clatters out of his grasp. 

He knows Mick can't hear him. Knows that even if he said it to Mick's face, Mick _wouldn't hear him._

He thought he was alone before.


	2. disruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You shattered your hand barely a few hours ago,” Sara's saying to him, looking at him like he shouldn't be getting dressed to saunter through the future with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dammit I can't stop. 
> 
> Evidently I should call this “how to deal with too many 1x09 feelings.”

“You shattered your hand barely a few hours ago,” Sara's saying to him, looking at him like he shouldn't be getting dressed to saunter through the future with them.

“Your point?” he asks, not turning around. He waves his new hand over his shoulder at her. “Perfectly fine now; freakishly so.”

“Adrenaline withdrawal is a thing, Leonard,” she tells him. 

Now, he looks over his shoulder. “You're making that up.”

“Nope.” She slides into the room and props herself up next to him, arms folded loosely. She's trying to catch his gaze but he's putting a lot of effort into ignoring her. “If you start falling over convulsing from phantom pains, it's probably going to be me that has to baby you.”

He sends her a sharp glare. “That'll never happen,” he says, cold.

She shrugs a shoulder. Looks away. “Must be nice for Mick. I'm sure he'll realize it, one day.”

He slams his hands on the wall, dropping the jacket that he'd been eyeing. She doesn't flinch and it pisses him off even more. “ _What_? Can't you see I'm busy?”

“Yeah, busy playing dress-up. Sure.” She grins at him and there's something dark and calculating there. He reminds himself that she's an assassin. He missed out on most of the Nanda Parbat party, but she was still there, slowly coming back to herself, away from that past killer. “You didn't know Rip could fix your hand. You sacrificed it to get off that ship and save Mick.”

He moves away from her to hide the fact that he's shaking head-to-toe. From nerves. From anger. 

“I did it to save my sister,” he replies, too loudly. “He was going to torture her to torture me.”

“Go ahead, keep talking,” she says to him, following him with her eyes, missing nothing. “How many excuses do you have lined up in your head, depending on who asks? Did it to save your sister.” She pushes away from the wall and starts to retrace his steps around the room. “Did it to save us, stop Mick from doing the Time Masters' job... Did it to save yourself, get off that ship, away from Mick.”

She stops walking when he does, his back to her again. Her stance shifts only a fraction, defensive, waiting, braced.

“I think all those reasons are true. It takes a lot to hurt ourselves that way, even when there's no other choice in sight. It's something any of the League would have done.” She smiles even though he can't see it. “You coulda been fun to train with as an assassin.”

“Leave me alone, Sara,” he warns.

She keeps talking, “You did it because you were too overwhelmed by guilt.”

He swings around at her and she's ready, one arm up to block, the other slamming the blunt of her palm 'round at his neck, hooking her fingers back. He slides a foot forward and knees her stomach. She puts all her strength in her upper body, curls over him, and shoves him to the floor away from her. She thinks it'd be nice to actually spar with him sometime, when his emotions aren't lighting him up as a beacon. 

She steps just out of his reach, seeing his hand move for one of her ankles. 

“You did it to save him from himself, Leonard.”

He doesn't get back off the ground. Won't look at her. Just clutches his hands tight.

“If you feel any withdrawal later, just ask me to get a drink with you,” she tells him. “I won't ask about it or bother you about why.” She turns and walks away. “We're probably heading out soon, I expect you to be your usual snazzed-up self.”

He waits until he can't hear her steps anymore before drawing himself up and swearing quietly. This is fine. He can deal with this, with Sara reading him. As long as someone like Ray can't see through his scattered emotions, it means he's still in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently “adrenaline withdrawal” _is_ an actual thing. The more you know. 
> 
> I'm not mad that they fixed Len's hand. If he had known before that the ship could fix it, then I would be mad. But since he didn't, I think what's important is whatever emotions going through him at that time that drove him to do it. *shrug*


	3. hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post LoT 1x10.
> 
> He has to steel himself to face Mick. Avoidance is a worn-in specialty of his and Len's done a good job of it so far, why spoil things?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah still adding things to this. Still just letting it be marked as complete. 
> 
> Spoilers as per usual.

He has to steel himself to face Mick. Avoidance is a worn-in specialty of his and Len's done a good job of it so far, why spoil things? But Sara's not going to stop meddling and his hand's acting up (it's not, but it feels wrong, churning up a nasty dysphoria in him) and Len _knows_. Deep down, truly, that he can't keep this up forever. And right now, the mission's frozen. Rip's off presumably to kill a kid, which doesn't leave them a whole lot to do other than wait.

Still, he takes to the halls. Uses Gideon to help steer him away from other teammates. Paces, thinks. He needs a plan. Can't go see Mick without one. Get it all worked out, the details, the words.

The door opens and with his first step into the room, the plan utterly washes away and his own lie to Sara bubbles through him. _“I don't have any feelings about Mick.”_ He sure as hell wasn't fooling her and maybe he could fool himself for a minute or two, but those feelings are bombarding him and he winds himself up tight. A hardened force.

Too hard. Mick would notice.

He knows his proposal. The words come out easily, like he doesn't care, like it doesn't matter. He says the words like he intends to give Mick his 100%. Like he stands a chance of winning. _This_ he thinks Mick should be able to see through, but maybe that vengeance is there too strong, shadowing Mick like Len's constant guilt companion. 

After all, Len couldn't kill Mick once. No matter how many chances he gets, Len isn't ever going to be able to do it. He knows that. 

“I take that as a yes?”

“Sound the bell.”

Len wonders if he should have said some things to people before he came here, but he thinks someone on this ship will have the smarts to check on Lisa for him, and the only other person that matters is going to kill him. 

He fights because he has to. Has to give Mick the show, the feel of power, the feel of control. Put all his anger into fists that cut into Len and _yes_ , this is what they needed, even if it's what Len never wanted. When he falls, he's glad. It's the closest thing to an apology than he can ever give Mick, without saying the words. 

And then it doesn't go right.

Mick breaks the script. 

How does this fix things if Mick doesn't kill him?

 _Why are you hesitating?_ he wants to demand. 

“We had a deal, Mick.” Len's the one that breaks promises. “Kill me and you walk. It's what you wanted, isn't it?” To get away from Len and never look back. Sever everything that Len never had a chance to fix, because the Time Masters got there first. He hates timetravel. He hates rules that he _cannot_ break because the universe deems otherwise. “To get off the team?” 

Hope isn't for people like him. Heroes have hope. Barry Allen and Ray Palmer can force-feed hope onto anyone, into any situation. But he's not... He can't handle if there's a chance. He'd already prayed on that ship while chained up that Mick was still in there, somewhere. That was survival instincts, begging for a way out. That wasn't _hope_.

This...

_“And unlike me, there isn't a human part left in them.”_

This, he thinks, is hope.


	4. normalcy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 1x13. 
> 
> But after Len's bruises finally began to fade, healing at their natural rate, Mick started to sit next to Len again. It felt something like forgiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was gonna make this a separate thing, but it fit well enough, so I added it here. 
> 
> Been busy the last few weeks. Haven't really had time to work on anything.

“You took a shine to Savage's blondie.”

For a moment, Len pauses, his mind trying to discern if there's jealousy in Mick's voice, but no, it's just an observation. Len cants his head in acknowledgment, taking his time before he replies.

Things have been... weird, between them. Dare he think that they're almost normal. For Len, it's easy to slide back into things; they haven't been apart for long, which can't be said the same for Mick, and that... Well. That instills Len with caution. Uncertainty. He _hates_ uncertainty. But after Len's bruises finally began to fade, healing at their natural rate, Mick started to sit next to Len again. It felt something like forgiveness. 

“She reminded me of you,” Len answers quietly. Honest. He's trying to break in a new habit. Avoid lying to Mick, no matter the topic. They might both end up regretting that at some point, further down the line. Len's lips pull back in the barest of grins. He focuses on a spot over Mick's shoulder when he turns his head. “There was that familiar fire in her eyes.”

Even in his periphery, he can see Mick's surprise flash across his face, there and gone.

Mick's gotten a whole lot better at masks ever since the Time Masters jacked him out of space and time.

So it delights Len, just a little, that something cracked through. 

“Oh?” is all Mick replies with, but there's intrigue there. Intrigue that Len wants to latch to, but he can't, he won't. His idle thoughts don't have a place here, not right now. 

Even if the timeline is a ravaged battleground. Even if they might die in the future. Even if their younger selves might be forgotten and their lives permanently changed. Even...

Len shrugs a shoulder and looks away. 

His goal wasn't to lie to Mick. But keeping in the truth to an unasked question... He was alright with that. It was his only life preserver. 

“You don't have that fire anymore,” Len says, voice too casual that it probably reveals too much. 

Mick bristles. “I have plenty of fire,” he argues.

“ _Right_ ,” Len laughs. “If you say so.”

There's anger in Mick's eyes and Len looks at him, startled, and wonders if maybe he shouldn't have laughed, maybe Mick hasn't forgiven him, maybe Len hasn't been careful enough. It isn't fear, not exactly. He just doesn't want to find himself back at square one, shouldering alongside Sara again because he's screwed up once more. 

“You're happy it isn't there as strong,” Mick hisses, “don't lie to me, Snart.”

He doesn't lie, or did you miss the memo, Mick? Still, the question shakes Len, and he opens his mouth to retort, but says nothing. Closes his mouth and secedes ground to Mick, and isn't that wrong, that isn't normal. It isn't like Len ever thought this would be _easy_ , and he knows they can't ever be what they were, but it's draining, and frustrating, and Len doesn't _know how to make it better_. He just keeps fighting a losing battle with his friend, on top of the battle with Savage. 

Now Mick's out of that cell and Savage is in his place and everything jars together and Len still thinks his blood is marring the _Waverider_ 's floor, under Savage's feet. 

“You don't want the truth,” Len spits back, sidestepping his answer. “So don't ask.”

Mick takes a step forward and Len doesn't back down, despite how his mind plays tricks on him and he sees Mick in that Chronos armor, unnaturally cold. He needs to get away from this situation.

“ _Tell me_ ,” Mick growls. 

A sneer twists over Len's face. He wants to _run_. He wants to _fight_. It's uneasy energy that has his fingers curling. He looks Mick straight in the eye, challenging. “I miss _you_ ,” he spits, and then he turns on a heel and gets himself out of Mick's presence, only managing because Mick lets him.

Len would rather face down Savage instead of talk to Mick about his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what happened, this was going to be like half this length, something done up quick, and then it ran away and I don't understand.
> 
> And I finally stopped fooling myself that this is a complete work.

**Author's Note:**

> God no one on my plurk list really watches this show. So painful. 
> 
> I still have so many Snart feelings that I just can't get into words. Uggggh.


End file.
